


What I Found on the Nightstand

by Magik (magikfanfic)



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-06
Updated: 2009-12-06
Packaged: 2017-10-04 05:39:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magikfanfic/pseuds/Magik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by queenb's "Return..." and is also a reply to Alara's Break-up Challenge. This is yet another story in which Bets leaves Warren.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Found on the Nightstand

Dear Warren,

I never knew how to ask you,

How to ask you what was true.

I never thought I'd have to ask,

For you to tell me what you're thinking.

And I realize that some things die,

While others never live.

I'd ask to have you back

But some things aren't meant to be.

And that's like me and you,

We're not meant to be.

 

It's not your fault,

I'm not saying it's mine, either.

People grow apart,

They change.

I changed and you didn't know

What to do for me.

That's not your fault because

I didn't know what to do for me, either.

 

I think I'm better now,

I think I can go on with life.

But only if I cut everything

That reminds me of anything out.

That means you go,

Cut out of my heart like a pound of flesh.

Don't feel bad because

It wasn't you.

It was me.

 

Fondest Wishes,

Betsy.

 

I found that on my nightstand this morning. When I first read it, I couldn't believe my eyes. She was gone completely and totally. Utterly gone, leaving only a small poem that gave no real explanation just a jumble of words that I'll never know the meanings to.

Betsy left me and I can feel my heart whither and die in my chest. I thought when I was dead inside when I lost my wings and Apocalypse turned me into his blue skinned angel of death. That was nothing. This? This is much worse.

I run my hand through my hair and stare at the world outside my window. Out there, right now, everything looks perfect. It looks peaceful. Betsy, in the weeks after her transformation by the Crimson Dawn, used to stand at this window and just look out, saying that she could see the true face of humanity, whatever that meant. I never questioned her when she said things like that, little off the wall thing. All I did was smile and nod because I knew she needed my support and I wanted to be there for her.

Do I still want to be there for her?

Hell yes but she won't let me. She won't let me.

So I take the gun from its cupboard and look at it, examine it, load it. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it. I think I'll leave it on the table and if things get too bad, as bad as they were before Betsy, maybe I'll use it. I can't stand the  
thought of being so empty and angry again. I'd rather die.

****

I can see him move behind the curtains, his tall, muscular form wandering from one side of the room to the other. He's beautiful in silhouette. I always told him that. I always believed it.

As I walk away, I hope that he doesn't do anything too drastic. It's not like I ripped his heart out and danced on it, I just broke up with him. I just left him so I could find myself, so I could reinvent myself.

I need some me time. It's been ages since I had me time. It's been since before the Crimson Dawn, maybe even before I joined the X-Men. I don't know anymore. That's how lost I am. I need this time away. Maybe I'll come back someday.

Maybe.

****

I watch her walk away from his penthouse, drawing her coat tight about her against the New York winter cold. I wonder how he'll handle things without her. When she flew into his life it was like he just kind of woke up from some deep slumber. He was happy again. He was whole. Now she's leaving him. I wonder how he'll take it this time.

I knock on the door of his apartment and wait for him to open the door. "Hey Flyboy," I mutter when he finally answers.

"Hello Logan," he replies, forcing a smile. "Come in."

As I walk in, I spy the gun sitting on the table. I take it up in my hand, looking at it. I can smell the desperation on him. "Why don't I keep this for a while, huh?" I ask and he smiles, slowly, sadly and nods. He just might be okay. He just might.


End file.
